


Relativity

by AquaSky



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: 2 sides of the same coin theme, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Different interpretation of canon, M/M, Mention of the Jet Mystery Train Arc, Pre-Slash, Relationship Study, some introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25705363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquaSky/pseuds/AquaSky
Summary: Detective and thief, whose roles lie on the opposite of the law, are enemies.But there is a often fine middle line met in between - compromises, favors exchanged, and persistent deals demanded on the spot.But Kid, however, believes this "request" is a bit too much for his liking.Cooperating  with Conan in taking down that same organization he encountered on the Mystery Train, which he barely scraped by, sounds like a death wish ordering his execution that is asking for trouble.
Relationships: Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan/Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid
Comments: 5
Kudos: 139
Collections: kaishinbigbang 2020





	Relativity

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you @Thannie for the wonderful art, giving advice on physics, and being a great partner ! It's a pleasure working with you :)
> 
> Update : Pictures + link added
> 
> [Artist link](https://purenguyening.tumblr.com/post/625520875478958080/my-half-for-kaishinbigbang-in-collaboration-with)

“No.”

On the rooftop, Kid and Conan confront each other, gazing at each other carefully as they try to discern each other’s intentions.

Kid has firmly spoken, unwavering and resounding with clipped finality. With a gentle breeze, his cape swished softly back and forth; his hat obscured his face, casting flickers of shadow.

However, Conan’s eyes widened briefly, surprised.

Kid quirks his lips, almost amused.

_This time_ , he won’t budge that easily. 

‘How did I get myself in this situation?’ Kid wonders.

As per quota, he gathered info and sent out a heist notice for the gem. At the designated time, he infiltrated the building, swapped the gem with a dummy and in the midst of chaos, escaped to the rooftop as he swept the task force with his smoke bombs. 

Lastly, he checked the gem under the moonlight – _supposed to check_ \- but he couldn’t.

Edogawa Conan stood in his path, blocking the moon’s rays, a fearsome look with a glimmer of intelligence and determination flickering in his eyes, radiating with a commanding presence. 

As if he has been waiting for him all along. 

And yet, he didn’t expect to be in this position again - of what is most likely to be a dangerous deal with Conan. 

But here they are, dancing with the devil and daring to take a step further beyond that incident.

“I decline your offer,” Kid repeats politely, the night wind ruffling their clothes. “I’m not going to be a lure this time around.”

“I didn’t say anything about a lure,” Conan mutters, his forehead creased under stress. 

“Back then, I was almost killed,” Kid states dryly. “Even I can tell those guys are a real deal not to be involved with.”

“A _person_ actually,” Conan corrects promptly - of course he would- and he dares to reason further, “You survived countless stunts and dangerous situations however, and managed to pull through-“

“I may live a life vigorously as a thief, but I also have a sense of preservation as well.”

Kid leveled his gaze at him, unwilling to concede easily. “My instincts tell me your request is not quite that simple to complete.”

“It’s not a request, but a collaboration - working together,” Conan growls, traces of irritation leaking out as he clenches his fist at his side. “Haven’t you listened carefully to a single word I said earlier?”

Indeed, he had. 

Seeking his help in taking down the organization – no blackmail, no lead-ins, no favors but plainly asking him directly without any sugar coating deductions veiled with a purpose is a surprise. However, the last time he encountered that certain organization on the mystery train, he almost got killed by _bombs_. 

If he hadn’t brought his hand glider, he would be dead toast.

Plus, Bourbon was downright intimidating – he thanks his lucky stars he stayed silent after reciting his lines, treading very carefully as he puts on his calm veneer expression while staying in character as Miyano Shiho. 

Thus, he’s wary – one can’t blame him for being cautious.

“Ah, it is rare of you, genuinely asking me without subtle threats to call in a favor, “ Kid quips, giving a neutral smile with lack of humor. Then he pauses, as if remembering something, and then deliberately sounds out the syllables in his upcoming word:

“ _Meitantei”_

Flinching at the moniker, Conan shivers at the inflection, and subsequently narrows his eyes, sensing a double meaning lay upon that word. He glances at Kid warily.

But Kid just smirks, an edge like quality that cuts deep, and continues on, “You’ll have to forgive me for being cautious however – you’re not providing enough info that’s convincing.” 

“…I want to make sure you won’t back out.” Conan grounds out.

“You can’t just _take._ Am I a mere chess piece to apply in your plan on a whim to suit your purposes whenever you pleased?”

After all, playing by his own rules, Conan lets him go whenever he decides Kid did a good deed, despite how questionable the means in doing so are. Or by pure coincidence, Kid helping him with a case whether by convenience or adding odds in Conan’s favor to ensure a certain outcome indirectly.

“I never thought that….I,” Conan recoils at the accusation, taking a step back. Begrudgingly , Conan swallows, as if he’s forsaking his pride on his following words, and forces out, “…I consider you as my counterpart.”

“Counterparts?” Kid tests out in wonder.

“Like a coin…each side individually being flipped by a switch, but makes up the coin as a whole.”

“That’s a vague analogy,” Kid drawls, wondering why Conan’s in the mood to be philosophical of all times.”Isn’t a mirror a better comparison?

“It _fall_ s under the same concept. Don’t you understand what I'm trying to imply?”

“Nope, I don’t,” Kid says, for the sake of being contrary. Conan glares heatedly.

“I thought philosophical analogies are your jam.” He mutters under his breath, scuffing against the concrete. 

Maybe it would have been – abstract riddles that made reference to the gem history and place, and alluding to the time does seem like his favorite pastime. Even so, on occasions, Akako bombards him with abstract prophecies for his future out of nowhere, acting all mysterious which is not helpful, _thanks_.

Instead of being teased with candy high in the air only to be snatched away, Kid wants a direct answer and clarification. 

And Conan is being very vague with his real intentions behind this farce he still continues to hide at.

“Look, I need your skills,” Conan says, bringing Kid back to the present. 

“You haven’t made a good case in convincing me, and gave me enough info. Time is ticking tantei kun,” Kid gestures around him, switching back to his former nickname. Thanks to the somber conversation, he’s not in the mood to entertain the task force arriving soon. “And even so, what would you offer to compensate my efforts? We’re not in a position where we’ll do anything for each other.” 

Although it is neat to have the advantage for once - Conan not having leverage on him is an added bonus - that is how far their relationship goes. After all, it was built on a system of deals. The witty banter and intellectual wit happen to be a part of it. 

A game of cat and mouse.

They don’t interfere with each other’s personal affairs unless strictly _necessary_. The mystery train heist falls under the criteria, accounting for the favor owed.

Brief traces of panic ran through Conan’s features, his eyes widening at the time running out. As if he encountered a brick wall, arriving at midpoint where he had to change his approach and compromise more, Conan stood still, staring blankly at the ground. 

Almost, _almost_ , Kid regrets, glancing at Conan, rendered speechless and at lost, his brows knitted in distress . 

The thief has never seen that look on him before, briefly recalling the always confident smirk as he spouts out deductions, showing superiority in the conclusions he eventually arrived at. 

A step into his world of crime full of danger. 

Secrets untold. 

Gambles. 

Risks being taken. 

Akin to his own, but perhaps taken to the next level of extreme he may not be prepared for. 

Therefore, Kid won’t yield. Despite embracing a life of thrill and danger that’s thrown at his face that comes with his job, he cannot imagine himself enduring more danger than necessary for the sake of helping Conan.

He has his own goal he needs to fulfill, no matter what the costs are. 

“Sorry tantei kun,” Kid says lightly, a poor attempt at lightening the mood.

Conan didn’t respond, his head still lowered. But at his sides, his tightened fists shook minimally, unable to remain still.

Prepping his hand glider, Kid trudges to the edge of the roof. Tonight, the wind is strong, but he should be able to follow the wind direction, and check the gem at a later date. 

”Until we meet again.” 

Before Kid could jump off the ledge, gripping the edge of the cloak hard, pulling Kid back. Kid yelps and almost stumbles. As Kid opens his mouth to protest, Conan yells:

Before Kid could jump off the ledge, the edge of his cloak was suddenly yanked hard, pulling Kid back as he yelped in surprise, almost stumbling onto his cloak. Whipping his head at the intruder, _Conan_ , whose eyes held a hint of desperation and sadness, fiercely gripped his cloak.

As Kid opens his mouth to protest, Conan yells, his facade and bravado finally breaking --

“You’re the only person I can count on!” 

Kid incredulously looks at Conan in disbelief, astonished by the turn of events.

Conan pleads, almost choking on his breath bordering on a whisper, “For me, it’s a life of life and death. _Please_.”

Silence befell upon them.

Carefully, Kid glances at Conan, stunned while he never thought he would see his rival in this state, and he finally sees the haunted look with eyes shimmering and, and –

As if the light went out in him, the voice sounds hollow, almost defeated, _desperate_.

_This feels wrong on many levels – not like him at all._

Kid’s heart lurches at the thought. 

“Tantei –“

“You can do things I can’t dare do, and I thought you would-“ His breath catches abnormally, and his head lowered again, his vulnerability shamefully exposed in spades.

Suddenly, there was noise heard from the staircases beyond the roof entrances. Nakamori Keibu and the task force are arriving soon in droves. Having no choice, Kid grabs Conan’s hand still holding tightly on his cape.

And decisively, with cold rationality --

Drops his hand from the cape. 

Conan’s arm lowers lifelessly, seemingly resigned and closed off. 

“Sorry, talk with you soon,” Kid says guiltily. Unleashing his hand glider, he took to the skies instantly, leaving Conan behind.

Those eyes down casted; his head lowered, emitting an aura of defeat, remained on Kaito’s mind the entire night.

* * *

A coin tossed wildly in the air, erratically before falling down in a flash. 

Before it reaches the floor, Kaito snatches it, and once more, flips the coin in the air aimlessly, not registering the movement. 

Blindly tossing it over and over, constantly. 

His mind rewinds to yesterday on repeat, his consciousness unable to make him forget.

_Counterparts._

Another coin flip. 

As detective and thief, they are on equal standing and have similar wavelength – Kaito acknowledges that fact. At odds, trying to one up on each other’s moves, similar to a chess board game applying strategy. A clash at heists that ends up sometimes in a tie, leading to no winner as of yet – a constant battle that continues. 

Kid runs. And Conan pursues, cornering him to a standstill. Kid would laugh mockingly and escape, almost always having a way out.

A thorn on his side. A troublesome threat. 

But a respected opponent – a rival.

A mindset shared like no other in regards to their intelligence and principle perhaps, but still different to a varying degree. 

With a construed expression, Kaito pauses the coin, and glances at both sides – heads and tails- thoughtfully.

_‘....Each side individually being flipped by a switch, but makes up the coin as a whole’_ he recalls silently, frowning at the metaphor.

What was he trying to say? 

Is he referring to their status as detective and magician, the logic and creativity canceling each other out to zero? The illusion with the ability to deceive being exposed by hard driven logic that crushes fantasies and dreamful acts full of wonder.

His brows furrowed, Kaito places a hand on his chin, unconsciously twisting the coin around. 

To deceive…

Offset by the truth?

Now that Kaito thinks about it, the truth is Conan’s main principle as a detective that he takes pride in. In contrast, Kaito is a thief who aims to find the real truth behind his father’s death, and exact vengeance on Snake, trapping him into being arrested - while attempting to keep the task force safe in the process- and finding Pandora.

With the truth as the common theme that unites their motives as one thing they share together, if Kaito follows that line of thinking then…

Tossing the coin high in the air again, the light scintillates brightly on the edge of the coin.

How much are they willing to go far for the truth they seek?

Determination, stubbornness, conviction…

_You’re the only person I can count on._

Conan’s voice echoes in his mind, present in its weight. 

….Desperation. 

Kaito seizes the coin in the air with finality, resting it on his palm. 

That time - he believes - is where the truth became gray for Conan.

A blurry gray line forming a bridge between their respective roles of what are supposed to be parallel lines. 

The moment when he asks a thief for help is when things start getting less simple, and more complex and intricate. 

Or perhaps it has been that way from the start, Kaito muses. 

Edogawa Conan …..No, that doesn't sound quite right.

Because his identity lies within another – the other half of the truth.

Shaking his head at acting like a detective, Kaito made his decision. Getting up from his desk, he waves off to Aoko, replying he’s heading home early and leaves the classroom.

He didn’t notice a pair of inquisitive eyes trailing after him, narrowing their eyes.

* * *

A few times, the doorbell sings out its chimes, signaling a person coming in. 

Glancing up briefly, Jii sees Kaito entering, proceeding to the front counter. Setting down the glass he’s cleaning, he focuses on his young master.

“Ah Kaito bochama, welcome.”

“Jii chan,” Kaito greets warmly, a fond smile playing on his lips.

“What may this humble man do for you today?”

"Let's see..." Kaito hums, sits on the barstool, hunches his shoulders, and clasps his hands together on the counter, contemplating. He asks meekly, "Do you still have the phone from a few months back?"

"Hmm..." Jii's eyes then widened in realization, his brows rising with disbelief. Kaito grins sheepishly, almost ashamed of asking.

“I need it.” Jii regards him skeptically, crossing his arms in disapproval. Kaito waves at him with careless abandon, and reassures, "Don't worry, we removed any possible traces and tracking installed right ?"

"Kaito Bochama...what are you planning?" 

Remembering the narrow escape that Kaito made from the mystery train, Jii was worried that he would not be able to make it out safely. The Kid Killer endangered his young master’s life in the process with his reckless deal, bargaining a deal in exchange of not outing them to the police. 

Edogawa Conan is a conniving child. He fears for Kaito’s safety – he wouldn’t live it down if something were to happen to him again. 

“It’ll be fine! Going to use it to distract a certain detective…” Kaito lies. Jii furrows his eyes sternly.

“Please pardon my rudeness, but I have to insist it’s not a wise idea. “ Jii shook his head in disapproval. “Why would you get yourself involved with that boy?”

“….I don’t know either. I just need to.” Kaito says uncertainty, not daring to look at Jii anymore.

“Bochama !” 

“Trust me, Jii chan. I’ll let you know within time.” Kaito says, resuming eye contact with Jii again; his tone is somber, heavy with weight.

Jii sighs, knowing that Kaito will search the place if he doesn’t give in.

“I suppose you’re not going to tell me?” 

Kaito didn’t answer, his head now tilted to the side stubbornly, unwilling to divulge any more info.

Jii gives him an assessing look before acquiescing.

“…Very well,” Jii heads to the back room, taking out the requested items. When he came back, Jii gave a charger and a device – a phone, its cover red, similar to an expensive brand name of phones that’s sold expensively in stores - to Kaito. “Please use it wisely with caution.”

“Jii chan…give me some credit!” Kaito says childishly, offended. 

“You’ve tend to often do something reckless – I can’t help but be worried for your safety.”

“Trust me!” Kaito gave thumbs up, and moved off the barstool, heading to the farthest corner of the room where it has an outlet.

Opting to give him the benefit of the doubt, Jii decides to leave him alone. For now, he can only wait patiently until the young master confides in him regarding this matter in the near future, and dearly hopes he’s not involved or stuck in a troubling situation.

One of these days, he’s going to get a heart attack from Kaito’s dangerous gambles and stunts out of worry. 

Jii sighs for what seems to be the hundredth time before resuming his duties at the bar.

* * *

Allocating to a wall, Kaito sits on the floor, plugs the charger into the outlet before connecting it to the phone. Kaito leans back, starting to feel a bit winded. Although he was supposed to return this particular phone to the agency, he kept it out of spite to annoy the little detective once he discovered Kaito didn’t follow the _last_ direction he gave before hanging up.

(He made sure to schedule his heists far from Beika and not accept Jirokichi's challenge often.)

At the time, he was still miffed by the bombs. Call him immature and unprofessional, but Kaito believes he deserves some _credit_ for the arduous effort he went through. 

Ironically, he’s now using the phone as a means of contact to reach Conan, perhaps finally having a sense of sympathy for Conan’s position once he had time to ponder. 

Also, the way he broke down near the end is…

Shaking his head, Kaito glances at the phone – the device received from Conan as part of the plan of impersonating a woman and means of contact after the deed is done- and waits for a few percentages to charge before turning it on. 

Jii and Kaito removed any potential tracking, cleared caches and bugs, and scanned the phone, making sure to turn off the number afterwards and inserted a special chip to make it untraceable - they didn’t want acquaintances coming after them. 

And there were a _lot._

Once the phone loaded its screen, Kaito immediately surfed through the contact list of many police officers - _scary -_ looking for a certain name.

The simple act of borrowing and keeping the phone provided a lot of potential info to uncover surprisingly once Kaito muted over and investigated a week later, with its implications due to events that had occurred at the mystery train. 

It may have been a stretch to deduce this fact however…

Finally reaching a contact name - Shinichi nii chan - Kaito pulls up the message bar.

In the dire situation, Kaito knew from experience, observing from an outside perspective, that there was a lack of preparation and planning on Conan’s end; although the improvisation is well done, it doesn’t compensate that some facts are questionable.

For instance, impersonating an affiliated woman from the organization. Most likely the organization- if Kaito associates it with the current organization he’s dealing with - has the ability to wire tap. 

Considering that fact, Conan couldn’t possibly ask anyone to borrow their phone without deeming suspicion and risking their safety, and a burner phone isn’t possible because he would have given Kaito from the start instead of an _expensive_ red brand, and he doubts the professor carried any extras to compensate or able to pass on to Conan; therefore -

It has to be his own.

If it wasn’t essential, why would he ask him to return that particular type to the _agency_?

He hadn’t really thought about it until later, but for a _child_ to be involved with an organization at a young age, and being the brains behind taking down the organization tingles Kaito’s curiosity, sensing a story behind it.

That was the final nail in the coffin. Some investigation and _bam_ , Conan’s identity unraveled once he knew what details to look for. 

Sighing, Kaito finally begins typing.

Right now, he can only rely on his gut feeling to do what’s right and hope he won’t regret it. 

(He hates how soft hearted he is.)

* * *

6:00 P.M.

30 minutes before meeting time.

The phone screen flickered, turning blank. Conan sets down the phone on the dining table, the light from the ceiling casting shadows on his face. A few minutes ago, Agasa drove and left him at the restaurant, managing to convince him that he’ll be fine alone. 

And of course, reassuring that he would not be thrown out to the streets because of no adult supervision and his _short_ height or age. 

Honestly, that is on Conan’s low list of priorities. There are far more important matters to be worried about currently.

Instances of mortification flashed in his mind once the events washed over him like a bucket of water splashed over him on that night he arrived at Agasa’s after the heist.

Out of everyone he knew, he shamelessly displayed his vulnerability in front of _Kid_ as he laid down almost all his _damn_ pride as a detective asking a thief for help, and what does he gain in the end?

A blunt refusal, dashing his hopes. 

And now said thief invited him to a restaurant at night, using _Edogawa Conan’s_ phone to contact him.

(Somehow, he suspects that’s why the heists were scheduled far away from him.)

(And he almost regrets, but Haibara’s life was at stake, prioritizing over his identity to save a life.)

Raising a hand to his forehead, Conan can feel a migraine settling over.

It’s just –

For some reason, he thought Kid would agree. 

Nonsensical – Conan knows, but a couple encounters with the thief, assessing the type of criminal he is, he deduces that beneath the layers of a poker face and mischievousness involved, he has a good heart. 

Dancing around the task force under the tip of his palms with the moonlight as his stage, reflecting the alluring, mysterious figure – a part of the essence that Conan can’t help but inevitably pursue him, like a proton propelled into an electron. 

Thrilling and Intriguing.

Crafty and intelligent. 

Challenging tricks with unobvious answers that he almost never gets bored of, keeping him on his toes.

Begrudgingly, Conan acknowledges his skills, stealth, and intellect - part of why he asked Kid in the first place.

Conan bites his lips, grimacing at the prospect of recognizing the other party’s outwardly again - he already admitted it during the last encounter.

But time is chipping away as each day passes; his days of becoming Kudou Shinichi are becoming a distant dream. 

Ran’s tears shed a scar within his heart, guilty and desolate that’s devoid of warmth. Aside from phone calls, there was nothing Conan could do to provide emotional support; instead lingering by and watching as Ran puts on a smile, a fake smile that’s not quite genuine on most days. 

And Conan is getting tired. Exhausted by the web of lies he weaved with each word he spoke, each time he diverted attention by behaving like a child he is - a purposeful act veiled with a desired result in mind - and each action that acted contrary to the truth that goes against his very being. 

Edogawa Conan has changed his life significantly, but it almost frightens him of the type of person he is becoming - living a lie that’s as breathless and natural as it comes. 

Therefore, _even_ if he has to resort to asking Kid for help to gain an edge over the organization - a chance at winning - he wants a break in living his life in scrutiny and distress from hiding from the Black organization. 

A FBI, CIA, Secret Police, and an international thief can’t go wrong right?

Belatedly, he scoffs humorously, wondering if Kid ever felt similarly with his double life and dealt with this mess before. 

Conan simply wants to rest.

He wants to return to Kudou Shinichi. 

Is that too much to ask?

“Yo Meitantei,”

A shiver crackled violently up Conan’s spine and shoulders –on pure instinct, he whipped out his tranquilizer watch at the direction of the voice.

Why does he keep referring to him as _that_?

Compared to tantei kun, meitantei refers to a detective worthy of high respect.

What is he planning?

Kid raised his hands in surrender.

“Hey, hey, I came in peace,” Kid attempts to placate.

Not lowering his watch still, Conan cautiously watches Kid, his hat covering his features and outfitted in black clothing. After a few beats, Conan finally lowers his watch, but keeps it close to his chest.

Accepting the silent truce, Kid took a seat across from him, making himself comfortable. 

Placing his hands in his pockets, Conan asked skeptically, “What made you change your mind?” 

“I want to hear your story in detail first,” Kid says lightly, crossing his arms. When Conan gives an indication of protest, Kid reassures offhandedly. ”Don’t worry, I checked for bugs and people that warrant suspicion.”

“And it has to be at a restaurant? “ Conan raised an eyebrow, referring to his surroundings. Diners are allocated in the restaurant, and Conan made sure to choose a table far away from them. “What happens if we get overheard?”

“Well, have you provided _them_ a reason to follow you?” Conan flinched, his shoulders instantly stiffening. Remembering his close encounters with the organization, with _Gin ,_ he scans the building again for any suspicious figures.

Addressing his panic, Kid elaborates further.

“It should be fine – you need to relax. You’ll get migraines at a young age if you keep worrying,” Kid brushes off in a leisure manner.

“Shut up.” Conan growls, glaring at Kid. “This is serious.”

“Indeed, so,” Kid says, slouching back on his seat. “Shall we get started then? Why exactly do you want to collaborate?”

Taking a deep breath, Conan prepares himself, realizing that he has to compromise some information or no progress would be realized.

“Story short: Help me destroy the organization, and infiltrate – I want you to gather papers or data for a certain item for me.” Kid wryly raises an eyebrow, a sign to explain further. But Conan says, “I’m not sharing more unless you agree.” 

Kid stays silent for a few seconds before giving a few mirthless laughs that border on sarcastic.

“Why are you laughing?!”

“Sorry, sorry, I don’t know why I expected anything different.” Regaining his breath, Kid stares at Conan, his eyes narrowed as he adopts a serious tone. “As my assumptions have been proven, it’s dangerous. And you would like me, a thief, to head into danger blindly with limited information?”

Unable to keep eye contact, Conan lowered his head, forgetting to take that factor into account.

Although he trusts the thief on most occasions, it does not mean they are in a relationship where they entrust personal information neither is it guaranteed the information won’t be used malignantly.

Conan has always kept secrets close to his chest, cautious and wary of people he surrounds himself with. 

And now, he’s taking a gamble on Kid.

But what options does he have?

_He’s a desperate fool._

“I’ve been wondering, however,” Kid says curiously, leaning forward, his eyes brimmed with caution. “What exactly is the organization? If you won’t answer that, I won’t help you.”

Relenting, Conan swallows before answering, “Men in Black turncoats…. Most of their men are alcohol based.”

Kid didn’t reply.

Inwardly, Conan feels a slight chill.

The deafening silence stretches out for a long time, the atmosphere full of tension, and clacks of dinner plates and murmurs of conversation floated in the air. When Conan turned to glance at Kid again, he instantly felt a chill rolling in his spine.

Kid pinned a strong, penetrating gaze at Conan, causing him to almost recoil back. 

Stunned by the change, Conan dares to meet Kid’s eyes head on.

Who is this person before me? 

Seeming to notice Conan’s caution, Kid relaxes his aura a little, but his posture radiates wariness, alert, _danger_. The friendly, mischievous vibe that Conan used to know was gone, as if a switch had been flipped.

Kid smiles – a smile that feels wrong on many levels, _fake_ – in an attempt of a silent apology. 

“The color…. and particularly the alcohols, seem general in identifying them,” Kid gives a wry smile, adopting a neutral expression. “I suppose it explains why that person is named Bourbon?”

Conan blinks, caught off guard, not expecting Kid to remember that fact.

“Yeah... it seems to be the trend.”

“I see. “ Kid pushes himself off the seat, standing up as he dusts his hand off.

“Kid…?” 

“Thanks for the information, “ Kid says in polite, cold dismissal, his lips curled in almost what seems to be sardonic. Tilting his hat, his brows furrowed in thought, he continues, “But I’m afraid we’ll have to discuss this later.”

“Wait, at least give a reason why !” Conan yells, rising up from his seat, almost slamming his hands on the table. He didn’t fail to notice the abrupt shift in demeanor when he mentioned the color, remembering the chilling sensation he felt earlier.

“A reason?” Kid scoffs, shifting his hands in his pockets. “ You’re expecting too much from a mere thief, meitantei.” 

“Why do you keep referring to me by that -” Suddenly, into view, a phone teasingly hovered over him, the bright red color visible under the restaurant lights.

Conan’s eyes widened. 

_Edogawa Conan’s_ phone.

His head whirled at the implications, and then curses for being complacent. Somehow, it slipped his mind that although Conan’s phone has less markings of it being traced back to Shinichi, it would still be his downfall if it fell into the wrong hands of a professional tracker.

And Kid is one of the primary examples, experienced with hacking into security and intel work behind the scenes before the heists.

Kid knows his _real_ identity. 

Trying to remain composed and not allowing panic to overtake him with his identity being discovered, he sifts through the possibilities. 

Would Kid expose him?

No, he believes he won’t go that far. They have a system, and even though it’s implied, a boundary line that they don’t breach across each other’s affairs. 

Except, he seems to have made a special exception.

‘That doesn’t guarantee’, his mind whispers fervently,’ he may not hurt anyone - that may change at any time.’

“Return it,” Conan demands fiercely, offering his hand. But Kid, that bastard, simply smirks.

“Two phones aren’t enough for a kid your size?”

Conan glares, and then attempts swiping the phone in the air from Kid, but Kid cackles wildly, dodging.

“This isn’t the time for jokes! If you knew, then you should understand the position I’m in!”

“Why do you presume I’ll agree immediately? Although I don’t know the exact details, I can’t relate what you’re going through.”Kid clicks his tongue in challenge; Conan’s phone now disappearing from sight, bundled somewhere in his outfit . 

“You’re right,” Conan says flatly, lowering his hand. “But if there’s one trait we share and understand, is acting like puppeteers, hiding strings behind the curtains as we put on a show, hooking people in.”

Conan manipulates the scene behind the Sleeping Koguro, sneaking clues and hints to the police beforehand as he charades around the scene innocently; Kid having his poker face on, entertaining thousands of people as he flaunts his magic with flair, adopting a charismatic persona. 

They have a potential to influence people’s perception with their respective expertise.

“A ridiculous analogy,” Kid drawls bitterly, his lips forming a grim line. “Are you going to compare us to a coin?”

Conan snorts, finding the statement humorous now that Kid mentioned it. 

“It makes sense in a logical and abstract manner. “ Conan reasons. “As a detective and magician, people observe and listen to us for a reason.” 

Conan took a step forward to Kid, as he took one step back.

“But like day and night, we can’t keep a pretense 24/7.” Conan firmly states confidently, knowing an act 24/7 can be suffocating on a daily basis - an alone recovery time would be needed.

After all, they have a secret identity to maintain, and need a break in allowing to be themselves once in a while. 

“....Really, “ Kid says wryly with amusement. “You expect our overlapping traits that come with our jobs would help me understand your situation better?”

“Isn’t that part of why you came?” Conan points out, raising an eyebrow.

Kid shook his head in quick disapproval. 

“....For requesting my help without a return, it doesn’t work that way. Simply based on those reasons without giving a proper explanation.” Kid accuses, switching gears to another topic, obviously in an attempt to not answer the former. 

That _damn_ thief.

“Aren’t you the same?” Conan jabs heatedly, referring to the heists. “Stealing and returning gems without an explanation as you trespass and damage public property as you made your escape.” 

Conan suspected there’s a pattern with the gems stolen, as if he’s searching for a specific type.

Kid didn’t answer, his face void of emotion. Turning to leave, he says, in parting : “We’re not discussing this.”

But Conan’s not done yet, grabbing Kid’s ankle and having some last words to say. 

“You asked if I have something to offer. I don’t,” Conan says frankly, staring directly at Kid with unwavering conviction, shuffling his feet nervously. ”Except my dignity and pride as a detective.”

Because in the end, Kid is a criminal. 

When a detective asks a thief for help, isn’t it disgraceful?

But Conan’s passed the point of caring.

He already laid down his pride - what’s more humiliation to come?

Shaking Conan’s hand off roughly, Kid gives one final glance.

“I can’t promise anything. Whether you have my services or not remains to be seen.”

With that, Kid left the restaurant. Conan remained in place, rendered speechless and unsure how to feel.

Should he feel sad? 

Disappointed?

Betrayed?

When Shinichi became Edogawa Conan, he was taught to rely on others, gradually learning to become open in seeking people’s help. That it is alright, and you’re not considered as _weak_ in confiding into others.

The one time he relied and laid down his pride on seeking help the most, especially a _criminal_ , it backfired on him.

Just why...is he reliant on Kid?

Maybe he’s seeking liberation from the lies, which are piling up daily non-stop. 

Maybe he’s seeking liberation from the organization, desiring for his battle to be already over and having his life back to normal, solving cases like he always did, except as who he _truly_ is.

Maybe he’s seeking understanding from the least unexpected person; their shared circumstances and problems may be different, but they may overlap in some ways. Simply knowing he’s not _alone_ in undergoing these types of problems may be comforting. 

Ah.

Conan laughs weakly, belatedly noting he has stayed on the same spot for a couple minutes. He walks to the exit, the doors clanging together in his wake after leaving.

‘Idiot.’ Conan scolds himself.

Even lonely people are driven to a brink, having their own set of limits too.

It takes one to recognize one. 

* * *

‘This is nuts.’ 

Glaring at the coin sitting on the desk, the _source of all complications_ , Kaito burned his gaze onto it.

The somber conversation with Conan yesterday made him irritable. 

No, that is not true. 

Kaito ran his hand through his hair, frustrated and restless. 

His mind is reeling from the information learned, still unable to process it. 

Kaito knew he was being difficult to Conan, but he couldn’t help it.

His poker face was on the verge of breaking when he learned the color, _Black_ , is the organization’s signature color.

Conan being persistent and stubborn with his questioning after the revelation also made the matter worse. Just a little bit more nudge and push, Kaito would have snapped back with irritation in a heartbeat, unbefitting of a gentleman thief. 

Kaito gives a deep sigh, deflated as he slouches back in his seat. 

With his mind clear, he goes over the possibilities.

The code names are alcohol based, but their turncoats are Black. 

It is a potential lead he could pursue and save more time relying on Snake and his men showing up at his heists uninvited. He admits, begrudgingly, he does not have any good leads in uncovering Snake’s base and finding Pandora, hitting a dead end.

From the start, he’s not even sure where to begin.

It’s dumb, he knows, but back then, stealing and researching gems seems to be the only lead that he has, _a hopeless one_ , but he can’t afford to give up.

For his father’s sake, and the time he has sacrificed devoting to his cause.

Perhaps the Black organization may provide some clues on Snake and his men, even _better_ if they work under the same branch and have some info on Pandora in the files.

Ah, that would give a good reason to collaborate with Conan wouldn’t it?

‘This seems too convenient, and anti - climatic at the same time,’ Kaito thinks, frowning as he wonders if it’s naive to believe that matters are turning out smoothly. 

Is it really that simple in the end?

Kaito picks up the coin thoughtfully. 

And it all began with a coin, and a request to tip off.

Kaito flips the coin, adding a quirk to it as he sends the coin sky high in the air that almost touches the ceiling, the light scintillating on the coin on both sides with a blinding light. 

As the coin was about to fall, a hand reached out and caught it.

“Light and darkness, white and black - the fine balance of order kept in place.” 

Stunned, Kaito shifts his gaze to the intruder before scrambling back against the small desk seat - Akako, who is now holding the coin, flips it with muted curiosity, eyes gleaming. 

“One cannot exist without the other,” Akako smiles mysteriously, leaning forward close to Kaito, who backs away in his seat further, and asks innocently with the coin aligned with his sight . “Hey Kuroba kun, when combined together, what color do you think you’ll get?”

“Gray,” Kaito deadpanned.

Akako laughs loudly as she straightens herself to her prior stance, flipping her hair.

“Oh? You seem to know well, however, ” Akako says, her lips twisted in amusement. “Is that the only answer?”

Kaito twitched. 

Before demanding her to be more clear, Akako tosses the coin back to him. Kaito flails in surprise, stumbling in his efforts to catch it. 

“It’s a dangerous territory you’re delving into Kuroba kun. I would advise against it.” Akako speaks slowly, deliberately sounding each word out, as if she’s speaking to a child. 

Kaito scoffs, pocketing the coin in his sleeves. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

Akako huffs, crossing her arms in displeasement. “Considering the type of person you are, no matter what I say, it falls on deaf ears.”

Kaito snorts with disbelief. “It’s because you keep spouting strange sayings out of nowhere!”

“Oh, “ Akako raised an eyebrow challengingly. “But it’s actually relevant to the dilemma you’re having.” 

“...” 

Moving into Kaito’s personal space again - _when would she stop doing that_ \- she begins sagely, “Listen carefully Kuroba kun, on behalf of Lucifer, let me say one last thing,”

Whispering into Kaito’s ears, her low breaths sending minimal shivers down Kaito’s spine - _poker face, poker face, damn it as he chants quickly in fervent prayer_ \- she advises:

“Amidst the shadows and clouds brimmed with latent mist of white and gray, there also lies an area you seek. Whether you find it or not however,” Akako smirks widely at Kaito, whose posture remains stiff.

Chuckling softly, Akako retreats back, placing a finger below her lips, like a secret being told.

“Is within your grasp.”

* * *

“What did you say ?!”

“I decided to collaborate with Conan in taking down his organization,” Kaito says casually, taking a swig of his drink, the taste leaving a bitter aftermath on his tongue. Stubbornly, he chugs it down, and then slams the glass on the counter.

“What happens if it’s a trap?!” JIi asks, deeply concerned at the turn of events.

“I didn’t really consider that but with the facts at hand,” Kaito looks at his glass, almost empty, his reflection on the glass staring back at him. ”I need to take my chances if that organization has any leads or connections to Pandora….”

“Even so, you’re not obligated to help him out,” Jii shook his head forlornly. “What led you to make that decision?”

“That is…” Kaito remembers Conan's desperate pleas, the blind faith that Conan seems to hold for him, and Akako’s questions and words replaying in his ear.

_Gray. he had replied._

A mix of black and white.

Different colors with their own unique properties; however, when combined in a union, a new property is made.

‘Is she subtly referring to Conan and I ?’ Kaito ponders, tapping his fingers in thought.

“...I don’t think he's lying.” Kaito concedes. Jii gives him a prompting gaze, seeking more clarification, but Kaito didn’t say anything more.

Although Kudou probably has the means to arrest him during the takedown, he would not do it on an unfair basis . 

(Because he trusts Kudou.)

* * *

Rain.

Stretching his palm outward, Conan feels the heavy wet droplets absorbing his skin,his clothes becoming drenched with water. Passerbys ran by, seeking shelter with trudging footsteps, seeking shelter from the heavy rain.

Recently, he got out of school; Wanting to be left alone, he gave a temporary excuse to the detective boys, who protested and questioned where he’s going. Haibara managed to calm them down, giving Conan a brief, skeptical gaze before allowing him to leave. Conan breathed a sigh of relief, and decided to wander around the block, not wanting to return to the agency just yet.

Rain wasn’t forecasted in today’s news strangely - or maybe he’s out of the loop from recent news.

He has never considered embracing the cold feeling that rain has brought before - it’s just rain, nothing outstanding aside from mother nature.

But it feels strange and comforting.

He could stay in the same spot all day, but he decides to keep moving on, aimlessly strolling the district block without a destination.

But Conan also feels an aching emptiness; he doesn’t understand.

Was it because of Kid, who he seems to have become reliant on?

A fool indeed he has become.

He can be more independent than that - always had, always will, working at his own pace and asking for help if necessary.

_It’s foolish to believe otherwise._

Standing at a crossroads he somehow arrived at, noting the street signs and buildings out of habit. Waiting for the lights to turn green, Conan stands on the edge of the sidewalk, keeping his distance from groups of people carrying umbrellas.

Eventually, the light signals green.

Then, he saw _him_.

A dark cap atop his head, an umbrella at hand, and a denim jacket worn with impeccable style, but obviously Kid due to the way he carries himself, Conan belated wonders why he’s doing here at Beika, of all places. Kid glances around briefly, as if there’s nothing else better to do, before his gaze focuses on a single spot.

Catching his gaze, Conan stares at Kid, passively remaining rooted to their spots as people carrying umbrellas. 

Time stilled for a moment before resuming its natural course.

Kid strutted in Conan’s direction, taking his first step out on the sidewalk onto the crosswalk. 

Conan waits, patiently. For what, he doesn’t know. 

(Does he dare hope?)

Conan has nothing to say to him, his mind empty of words. He already said what needed to be said. 

FInally reaching him, Kid stood in front of Conan, his height towering over him. 

The sound of rain can be audibly heard, the droplets falling down from the sky and from roofs with stricken sounds against the ground. Splashes of water are made with a loud _plop_ as there are a few people that run by.

But Kid and Conan don’t mind, intently focused on each other.

“You’ll catch a cold,” Kid says simply - a fact that is irrefutable.

‘I don’t mind,” Conan says, shrugging, the heavy weight visible with his shoulders soaked with water. For his distracted thoughts, the rain provided a temporary sanctuary from his problems.

“You need to take care of yourself more,” Kid chides lightly.

“You’re not in a position to care.” Conan scowls, huffing. He turns away as he crosses his arms indignantly, not in the mood to spend his energy in conversing.

It’s humorous how they can chat easily, as if the recent events are a part of the past now.

“Meitantei,” Kid calls out softly.

Conan blinks, noticing droplets not falling onto him anymore.

An umbrella hovers over him closely, blocking the rain as huge blots of rain hit heavily against the exterior, dripping to the floor. Conan looked up, his eyes widened.

Kid grins, a genuine smile stretching across his face.

Then, his mouth slowly opens, swiftly saying his _words_ that are life changing; Conan almost didn’t catch it.

Barely registering what Kid said, and unable to believe what he heard, Conan looks at him with disbelief.

(But a glimmer of hope flickers in his eyes, rejuvenating his spirit.)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any inconsistencies anywhere - I did my best to stay in character and make the motivations seem valid.
> 
> Thank you for the time reading my work.


End file.
